


as the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

by galaxyowl



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eudora Patch Lives, F/F, Other characters in minor roles - Freeform, Post-Season/Series 02, Sparrow Academy timeline, also canon-typical Eudora Is A Cop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyowl/pseuds/galaxyowl
Summary: In a world where she's never once heard the nameDiego Hargreeves, Eudora Patch has a series of run-ins with a woman with a mysterious briefcase, a British accent, and a dazzling grin.
Relationships: Eudora Patch/Lila Pitts
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	as the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

**Author's Note:**

> why yes this is a galaxy brain thank you

The first time Eudora sees her she is nothing more than a flash of blue in the corner of her eye; and then, as Eudora stops in her tracks and peers down the alleyway the light had come from, a figure vanishing around the corner, all black hair and dark clothes.

Eudora stares at the empty alley for another moment, trying to think of what could have made a light like that. Then she gets home and forgets about it.

The second time is a few weeks later, but it’s the same alleyway, the same early-evening walk back to her apartment, the same blue light and crackling sound, like electricity put through a blender. The stranger stands in the alley holding a large briefcase.

She makes eye contact with Eudora.

An instant later she has her pinned against the brick wall of the alley as Eudora wastes time reaching for a gun she doesn’t have on her.

“I’m going to state myself plainly,” the woman says. “You’re going to go back to your superiors, and you’re going to explain that I don’t want anything to do with them. They’re going to stop sending goons in me, and I, in turn, won’t hop back to the ’50s and do my best to finish what my mum—“

Eudora swipes a kick and the stranger crumples just enough for her to slip out of her grip.

She hesitates, in the alley, wondering what the hell any of that meant. If it meant anything and wasn’t just… what? Nonsense to try to distract her?

“Well, what are you waiting for?” the woman says. “Get it over with. Kill me. You new recruits are worthless, I swear.”

“I’m not sure what you think is going on here, but I assure you—“

A hail of gunfire slams against the alley wall, and Eudora swears and ducks to the ground in mirror with the stranger, gaze scanning the street for any sign of the shooter.

“Come and face me like a man!” the woman shouts, which, goading the person with the gun would _not_ have been Eudora’s preferred tactic in this scenario.

Moments later, a person wearing a colorful mask and wielding a machine gun steps into the alley with them. Adrenaline spikes through Eudora. She needs to do _something_ , before this escalates any more than it has.

Eudora glances towards the stranger.

She clicks something on the briefcase, and disappears in a burst of light just as a bullet whizzes by the place where she was standing seconds ago.

The _hell_?

Another flash, and she’s back, standing on the other side of the gunman with a weapon of her own. He falls to the ground dead. She levels her gun towards Eudora and says, “Behind you.”

She dives to the side just as the woman opens fire again and takes down the person who had, it seems, had a gun raised to Eudora’s head.

The stranger tilts her head to the side. “You’re not with the Commission, are you?”

Eudora doesn’t answer.

“Who are you, then?”

She hesitates another moment, and then, even though she isn’t on the clock right now, says, “Detective Eudora Patch."

“ _Detective_ ,” the woman says. “Well, isn’t that fancy.” And then, “Eudora. I’ve heard that somewhere recently.” And then, “I’m Lila, by the way. Should probably be going now, though.”

“Right,” Eudora says, “okay.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Detective,” Lila says. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know the date, would you?”

“It’s April 1st?” Eudora offers.

“What year?”

“What, you some kind of time traveler?”

“Something like that.”

When she says nothing further, Eudora says, “2019. It’s April 1st, 2019.”

Lila laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

She grins. “Happy end of the world, Detective. Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

And then she vanishes.

Eudora does her best, over the next few weeks, to put the incident out of her mind, without much success.

***

Eudora brushes past caution tape as she steps inside the convenience store. A bystander had called the cops after a robbery turned violent; not exactly pleasant, but all in day’s work for her.

Except that as she enters the room, a uniformed vigilante is already talking to the witness.

“Number Two,” Eudora says. Her day just got a lot more complicated. “Do you mind?”

“I do, actually,” Ben Hargreeves says, as the civilian glances between him and Eudora with apprehension.

“Listen,” she says, “the professionals are here now, so you and your siblings can leave, all right? I’ve got this handled.” Three and Five are on the other side of the store, doing… something.

“Do you, though?”

She so cannot deal with this right now. “This is my job.”

“Yeah, it’s mine too.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but just because your dad has half of city hall in his pocket doesn’t make what you guys do legitimate.”

“Uh-huh. Well—“

“Um,” says the witness. “Should I… go?”

“No,” Eudora says, forcing herself to take a deep breath. “Look, I apologize for—“

She breaks off as, across the room, a familiar figure slips inside.

“Detective?”

She jerks her gaze back towards Two and the witness. “Sorry,” she says. “There’s something I need to do. You can have one more moment.”

Lila is inspecting the shelves with the air of someone going about their usual shopping.

“What are you doing here?” Eudors hisses as she approaches.

Lila turns.

It really is her. She’d half managed to convince herself she’d imagined their last encounter.

“Could ask the same of you."

“I am doing my job,” Eudora says, again.

Lila blinks. “Oh, right, right. _Detective_.”

“Listen, I don’t understand who you are or what you’re doing here, but you’re going to need to leave.”

“You really want to do this?” Lila says. You think I couldn’t kill you right now if I wanted to? I’m _kidding_ , God, don’t look at me like that.” She sighs. “Anyways, you let them hang around.” She nods towards the Sparrows.

Eudora squares her jaw. “That’s different.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She smiles. It’s almost enough to make Eudora feel like the two of them old friends, joking about something they both know is ridiculous. But that’s not what this is. Eudora has watched Lila kill grown adults and come away with that same grin on her face. She should have her arrested, probably. She should not, under any circumstances, _like_ her.

“Please just leave,” she says.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Lila—“

Lila’s gaze lands on Number Three, across the room. “Here’s a tip, Detective,” she says. There’s a flicker in her eyes, off-color, almost reminiscent of Three’s powers—but no. That doesn’t make sense. “You should check under the register.”

“What?” Eudora says. “Why?”

Lila grins. “Let’s just say a little birdie told me, yeah?” She turns and leaves before Eudora can process what’s just happened.

“Who was that?” Ben says, over her shoulder.

She swears under her breath. “No one.”

“Why was she at an active crime scene, then?”

This Lila woman is a force to be reckoned with, an unknown variable. The odds are high that whatever she’s up to is at least partially illegal. But it’s clearly also… What, magical? Has anyone come up with a word yet that describes the Sparrows’ powers along with a woman and briefcase appearing in a burst of light? Is she right to connect those two dots?

Point is, he might have better luck solving that particular mystery than she’s been.

“Police business,” she says aloud. “Now can you all let me work?”

***

When Eudora steps out of the police station, Lila is leaning against the wall of the next-door building.“I figured out where I’d heard your name before,” she says.

“What?”

Lila points a finger-gun at her. “You’re the ex-girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your name was in the files. You’re Diego’s ex, the one who died, oh-so-tragically. Or, you would have been.”

“I think you’ve got me mixed up with someone else,” Eudora says slowly. “I’ve never dated anyone named Diego.”

Lila rolls her eyes. “Well, in _this_ timeline you haven’t, obviously.”

Timeline.

What was it she’d said, that first time they’d met? It’s absurd, but… Well, the world is pretty absurd these days. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?”

“You got somewhere in mind?”

“Not really.” She just cannot bear the idea of one of her coworkers overhearing.

“Hmm,” Lila says. “You know, there’s a donut shop around here that I’ve been meaning to check out.”

Which is how Eudora ends up at Griddy’s Donuts at 5:30 in the afternoon sitting across the booth from a maybe-time traveler.

“So…” she says, as Lila takes a bite from a pastry. “Let’s say I’ll play along. In another ‘timeline,’ you knew me?”

“Not in the slightest,” Lila says. “But I knew someone who did. Doesn’t really matter, though. That wasn’t _you_.” She eyes Eudora for a moment. “Unless it was, I suppose. I’m not really one to give a shit about the philosophy of it all.”

“Why are you even telling me this, then?”

Lila considers a moment. “Thought it would be funny.”

Eudora scoffs.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve decided whether it is,” Lila continues.

“No,” Eudora says, slowly, and then, more forcefully, “No, I think you’re going to tell me what’s going on. If I’m putting my job on the line to keep your secrets, I think you owe me an actual explanation.”

Lila sighs. “Fine,” she says. “How much, exactly, do you know about the Sparrow Academy?”

“They’re superheroes,” Eudora says. “All miracle children born on the same day, and all that.”

“Right. Sure. But here’s what Sir Hargreeves doesn’t want you to know: the Sparrows are version 2.0.” From here, she launches into a story that might be more at home in a conspiracy tabloid than a donut shop. The narrative wanders, and Lila’s vague on things like people’s names, but Eudora gets the general picture, she thinks. Although whether it’s true is another question.

“So, what,” she says, after Lila’s finished, “you were part of this... Umbrella Academy?”

Lila looks at her just long enough for her to wonder what she’s thinking. Then she says, “Yes. I was. How’d you guess?”

“The powers were kind of a giveaway.”

“Fair enough.” Lila leans in across the table, gives that dazzling smile of hers, and says, “Enough about me, though. Tell me about you.”

***

“Hiya.”

Eudora looks up to see Lila resting her elbows on top of her desk. “What are you doing here?” Then, “How did you even get in h—?”

“Don’t worry about it. Can you help me look something up?”

“What? No.”

“Really? You’re not even going to ask me what it is?”

Somehow, none of her coworkers at the police station have noticed this stranger at her desk. Or, more likely, they assume she’s someone Eudora knows. Are they wrong?

“What are you looking for records on?” she says.  
“That’s not me agreeing, to be clear.”

“One Dr. Terminal.”

“Is… that their legal name?”

“Dunno.”

“So, what, you want me to go through all of our files in the hopes that this person _might_ be in there? Even though they’re probably listed under a different name?”

“That would be great, yeah.”

“I’m not going to do that,” she says, just to be safe. “Maybe try a library next time?”

Lila sighs. “Maybe.”

“Actually, wait,” Eudora says. “Can’t you use your—“ She lowers her voice. “Super-senses? To figure out where these records are?”

“You’re so cute,” Lila says “It doesn’t work like that. I was only borrowing that power.”

“Borrowing,” Eudora echoes.

“Think of me like a chameleon,” Lila says, taking a seat on the edge of Eudora’s desk. “I just reflect what I see.”

“Sounds more like a mirror.”

“Use whatever metaphor you like. You get the idea.”

“I guess.”

She studies Lila’s face, which seems carefully neutral. “What’s it like?” she asks. “Doing that?”

“What’s walking like?” Lila says. “Can you describe it? Maybe if you tried, right, but you’ve never thought about it. And there was a time in your life when you didn’t know how to do it, but I bet you can’t remember it.” She pauses. “It’s like that.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“I know,” Lila says. “You, Detective Patch, are so very ordinary.” She smiles as she says it, though, her voice soaked through with affection.

Eudora finds herself smiling back.

She takes a breath, setting her mask of pseudo-professionalism back in place. “So, why are you so interested in this Terminal anyway?”

Is it her imagination, or does Lila hesitate a moment? “I’m just trying to follow up on loose threads related to the Umbrella Academy. Figure out what’s changed or hasn’t in this timeline.”

“Right,” Eudora says. “Of course. The timeline.”

“You’re finally catching on.”

“Are you trying to find them?” she says, the pieces sliding together in her head. “Your family?”

“Yeah,” Lila picks a pen up off the desk and twirls it in her fingers. “I’m trying to find my family.”

“Have you spoken with the Sparrow Academy at all? If they… replaced them.” The idea still isn’t real. The Sparrows have always been the Sparrows.

“They won’t help me,” Lila says. “Not like you.”

It’s an incomplete answer, but Eudora doesn’t push it.

***

Eudora finds an unmarked envelope in her mailbox.

She takes it, along with the usual array of bills and junk mail, up to her apartment, tosses the rest on the tiny kitchen table, and stares at the mystery envelope for a moment. Then she slides her nail along the top edge and pulls out a single piece of paper.

It reads:

_Dear Ms. Patch,_

_We are contacting you to inquire to the whereabouts and whenabouts of one Lila Pitts, who we believe is of your acquaintance. No matter what she has told you, understand that in truth Miss Pitts is a dangerous and unpredictable rogue agent whose presence has the potential to doom the entire timeline. Any information you can offer us will be of utmost helpfulness. Please respond by letter, which can be delivered to the crook of the tallest oak tree on your street._

_Should you refuse to provide us with the requested information, rest assured that consequences will be swift and without mercy._

_Best regards,_

Below which is a signature and what she’s pretty sure is a handwritten date, neither of which she can make out.

Her first thought is that it is, obviously, a joke.

Her second thought is: what if it isn’t?

She sets the letter down on the table. Then she reconsiders, grabs a box of matches from her cabinet, and burns it instead. She holds the vanishing paper as its edges singe away until it’s only a scrap, which she throws in the trash.

She sits down on the couch, and tries to make the world make sense.

 _Think through this, Eudora_. Worst case: there are people after Lila, and now they’re after her. Well, they’re after her _if_ she doesn’t give them Lila. They’re blackmailing her, and she isn’t even sure she understands why.

She spends the next week scanning every street corner and alleyway for the sight of Lila, and finally notices her standing on the opposite street while Eudora waits for a bus.

She crosses the road. “Lila,” she says, “who is it that’s after you?”

Lila raises an eyebrow. “Good to see you too. Why do you ask?”

“I got a letter.” Lila is walking somewhere. Eudora falls into pace beside her.

“A letter.”

“A threat.”

“Oh?” As if they’re discussing a movie Eudora saw last weekend.

“Yes,” she says. “Asking for information about you, which I have so far not given them. You’re welcome.”

“Aw, Detective Patch, do you care about me?”

“I just wanted to get your side of the story first.” She sidesteps a grate in the sidewalk. “I figure anyone who makes those kinds of threats could have enemies for good reason.”

“Sounds to me like you care.”

“This is serious.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

Lila picks up the pace, and Eudora follows suit. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Nowhere,” Lila says, matter-of-fact. “I’m just trying to lose our tail.”

“What?” Eudora just manages to keep walking without visibly reacting.

They reach a crosswalk, and stop as they wait for the light to change. Eudora keeps her voice low as she says, “Is it the same people who sent me the letter?”

“I’d imagine so, yeah.”

The words cut through Eudora’s mind, knife-sharp: _consequences will be swift and without mercy_.

Okay. Strategize. “On my signal, split off. We’ll see who they’re following and—“

Gunshot.

A nearby window explodes inwards; the bullet didn’t hit anyone. Probably was only even intended as warning shot. Other pedestrians scatter away, shouts of alarm rising from the crowd like a violent song.

“We should get out of here,” Lila says.

“Why are they after you?” Eudora asks again as both of them break into a run.

“Does it matter at this point?”

Skid around a corner, down a side street. “Yes!”

More gunfire behind them.

They keep running. Every one of Eudora’s instincts screams that she should turn around, confront the problem, take charge. But she doesn’t have a weapon and she doesn’t have police backup and she doesn’t know what she would do if she tried; the only option left is to regroup and figure out what’s going on.

Footsteps. They’re being chased.

“Shit,” Eudora mutters.

Lila stops.

Eudora slows beside her. “We can’t—“

“Go,” Lila says.

“What?”

“This is my fault. I’ll deal with it. I’ll leave you alone. Like you wanted, right?”

“Lila…” Eudora says.

“It’s for the best, anyway,” Lila continues. “I mean, you had a chance to have a normal life, this time ‘round, and I went and screwed that all up for you, didn’t I?”

“We can have this conversation later. Somewhere safe.”

Lila shakes her head. “No. Trust me, I know the people we’re dealing with. You’re not safe unless I—“

“You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Lila looks at her for an unbearable moment. “I do, actually, today.”

She turns to go. Eudora grabs her by the arm, and she spins around and makes direct eye contact with her.

Lila says, “I lied to you.”

Eudora drops her grip. “What?”

“I’ve been lying to you. The Commission, these people who’re trying to kill us? I’m one of them.”

Eudora shakes her head. “They hate you. They’re looking for you. That was very clear.”

“Because I—“ She cuts herself off. “The details aren’t important just now. Just believe me, all right? It’ll be safer for both of us if I go.”

“So then—what? Everything you’ve told me about your past was a lie? What was with that—that Umbrella Academy thing? You made that up?”

“The Umbrella Academy,” Lila says with a breathless laugh. “You really don’t understand anything. I was never a part of the Umbrella Academy. Don’t you get it by now? I’m not a superhero, Eudora. I never was. I’m the villain of this story.”

A moment too slow, Eudora says, “Real life doesn’t have heroes and villains.”

Lila snorts. “Shows what you know.” Then she freezes. Tips her head to the side, listening to something other than sound. “Oh, that’s perfect,” she says, and dissolves into a flock of birds.

A stolen power from a Sparrow however-many blocks away. The birds wheel away into the sky in the direction of Lila’s pursuers.

***

Lila has been missing for a month.

The longest she’d gone before between seeing her was a couple weeks. And, you know, she’s a time traveler, and an adult who can take care of herself, but none of these facts stop Eudora’s mind from wandering, while she’s supposed to be filling out paperwork, to the thought of Lila dead on the ground somewhere (somewhen) at the feet of a Commission agent. None of that stops the gnawing thought that if she is, it’s Eudora’s fault, somehow.

“You all right, Patch?” Beaman says, and she tenses.

“Fine,” she mutters, looks back down at the form she was working on. Then she stands. “Actually, I’m not feeling all that well. I think I’m going to head out.”

“Oh,” Beaman says, as she tidies her desk. “All right. Get well soon, yeah?”

She smiles at him. “Yeah. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

She does not go home.

She hates the idea that she’s had, but it’s all she’s got. So she gets on a different bus than usual and gets off outside the steps of the Sparrow Academy.

The building towers over her. _This is a bad idea_ , she thinks again, as she approaches the door.

She raises a hand and presses the doorbell. It goes off, somewhere inside. She shoves her hands into her pockets, nerves twisting in her stomach. There’s no knowing if the Sparrows will agree to help her, even if they can; she hasn’t exactly been subtle in her disdain for them over the years.

A voice from behind her: “Holy shit. It’s you.”

She turns to see a man she doesn’t recognize—white, strangely-dressed, words tattooed on each of his hands—standing on the sidewalk, giving her an utterly unreadable look.

“I’m sorry?” she says.

“I mean, feels like I should probably be the one apologizing, given that you, y’know, died saving me, but hey—” He narrows his eyes. “You are dead, right?”

“Um,” she says. “No?” Then she thinks about what Lila had said, about timelines and ex-boyfriends and tragic deaths. She hesitates a moment, and chances, “Not in this timeline, anyways.”

He blinks. “I have no idea whether you’re pulling my leg right now.”

“Were you here for a reason?” she asks, nodding towards the Academy doors.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “I live here. What are _you_ doing here?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not part of the Sparrow Academy.”

“And how would you know that?” he says. “They wear masks.”

“The adoptions are a matter of public record.” Not to mention she’s had enough personal run-ins with them that she’d recognize them anyway.

“Huh,” he says. “That’s a good point. What was up with that, then?” He shrugs. “Anyway, let’s just say that I’m a Hargreeves cousin once removed and leave it at that.” A beat. “So can I go in, or are you gonna keep blocking the doorway…?”

“Oh.” She steps back to let him pass.

He opens the door. Stops, looks at her. “Would you like to come in?”

“I was looking for the Sparrows,” she says. “I can just come back later.” More likely not. If they weren’t going to even answer the door for her, that probably just was what it was.

A long, awkward pause. “I suppose I could… take a message, if you want?”

“That would be great,” she says. “If you could just tell them Eudora Patch wants their help with something? Off the record.”

“Ooh,” he says, “ _off the record_.” Shit. She shouldn’t have trusted this random guy. He might not even live here, for all she knows. “I’ll tell them. Congrats again on not dying, by the way.” He goes to close the door behind him, and its only as he does that Eudora catches sight of the other tattoo. On his wrist.

She catches the door before he can close it all the way. “Wait,” she says, staring at the inked symbol. “I’m sorry, but… Are you a part of the Umbrella Academy?”

He stares at her. “What’s it to you?”

“Do you know someone named Lila?”

No response.

“I think she’s in trouble,” Eudora says.

He groans. “Look, okay, I’ll tell Diego you were here, we can ask around. But that’s really all anyone in this house is gonna be able to offer you.”

Eudora does not tell him that she doesn’t know a Diego. Instead, she says, “Thank you,” and leaves it at that.

***

Eudora is awoken in the middle of the night, weeks later, by a sound from the balcony. Something like electricity, something like a groan. An animal, maybe, she thinks, but it’s strange enough that she gets up, pushes her hair out of her face, and slides the glass door open.

“Eudora.”

Lila’s voice is weak, her clothes bloodied, her face obscured by shadows.

“Oh my God.” Eudora leans down over her. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” Lila says. She’s hunched over, clutching her stomach as the fabric of her shirt blooms with red.

Eudora goes inside and grabs a random shirt from her dresser, presses it over the wound. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Can’t go to a hospital. They’ll find me again. Can’t…” She sucks air through her teeth. “Will you help me?”

“I’ll try,” Eudora says.

A few stars poke through the clouds overhead. She gets Lila inside and maneuvers her onto the bed, gets her shirt off so she can get a proper look at the wound. She fetches a first aid kit from the cabinet and sets to work, not meeting Lila’s eyes.

“Knew I could count on you,” she says as Eudora sets aside the extra bandages.

Eudora takes a seat on edge of the bed. “I still think you should see a doctor,” she says, because she feels like she should.

“Nah,” Lila says. “Mum always said I was a fast healer, anyway.” She quiets for a moment.

“I thought you were dead,” Eudora says.

“Would it have mattered if I was?”

“Of course it would.”

“Sweet of you to say.”

Eudora doesn’t know how to respond to that. Instead of trying, she gets to her feet. “You should get some sleep.”

“You should, too, shouldn’t you?”

“I’ll take the couch.”

Lila sits up. “It’s your bed,” she says. “There’s plenty of room.”

Eudora hesitates a moment before nodding. “All right,” she says softly. “But you have to stay where you are.”

Lila’s lip twitches. “What? You worried you’ll be unable to resist me if I get too close?”

She slides under the covers. “I’m worried you’ll reopen your wound.”

Lila sighs. “Pity.”

Eudora can feel her warmth, the both of them sitting there, so close. Lila looks at her, and her dark eyes glitter in the streetlights from outside.

“Good night, Detective,” Lila says, and lays down.

Eudora falls asleep that night to the sound of her breathing.

She awakes the next morning to see her still beside her. On some level, she’d assumed she’d be gone in the morning, like some strange dream. But she’s here. She’s real and human and tangible, and Eudora can (Eudora does) reach over and move a stray strand of hair out of her face.

Lila doesn’t stir.

Eudora gets up. By the time she’s out of the shower, Lila is sitting upright in bed, shirt still blood-stained, hair tangled from sleep.

“Good morning,” Eudora says. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” Lila deadpans. “But alive. I owe you, unfortunately.”

“You don’t owe me,” Eudora says. She doesn’t know what exactly this thing between the two of them is, but she knows it isn’t that. When Lila doesn’t respond, she says, “Do you want breakfast? I could probably whip up some eggs or something.”

“That would be incredible.”

So Eudora steps into her tiny kitchen, gaze still lingering on Lila through the door. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asks as she sets to work.

No response.

“I did save your life.”

“I’m not in love with you,” Lila says.

Eudora stops. “What?”

“I’m not—I just, I don’t think I’m ready for that. You know?”

She steps back into the bedroom, taking in Lila’s face, the desperation drawn across it. “I should hope you’re not _in love with_ me, given that we still barely know each other.”

“Right, but I mean, if I’m not, then—then you don’t need to bother with… With all of this.” Lila gestures vaguely. “The saving my life and the making me breakfast and everything. I can just get out of your hair.”

Eudora sits on the bed. “If that’s really what you want, then okay,” she says. “But it sort of sounds like it’s maybe not?”

Lila doesn’t answer.

“How about,” she says, “instead of this being some grand fated thing, we start where we are and go forward?”

“What do you mean?”

“First of all, I want you to actually tell me things,” Eudora says. “The truth, this time. And then, well.” She considers her words. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Officially? One where no on tries to kill either of us, hopefully.”

Lila looks at her in silence for a long moment, and then laughs. “You know what’s insane?” she says. “I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can come shout about tua with me on tumblr & twitter @confusedbluesky


End file.
